#your sons put on the mask of robin and take it off to be who they are

[casually-eat-my-soul]

“Bruce Wayne is just a mask, Batman is who I really am” okay mister Bat “Brucie Wayne” Man your real identity is your fursona?? no wonder your kids don’t talk to you.

[suzukiblu]

WIP guessing game: help

"I know about Billy, Marvel," Batman says, and Billy . . . blinks.

"You know?!" he sputters. Okay, so apparently his secret identity was just . . . literally never a secret at all, then. Which, well–Batman, so that just figures, really. So actually this is kind of a relief and might even mean that he's fine with–

"Yes," Batman confirms with a nod. "So I understand your current reservations about parenthood."

. . . wait what.

"Huh?" Billy says, blinking stupidly at him.

"I don't know how much of you is still C.C. Batson or what you do or don't remember about being him," Batman says. "But the resemblance is undeniable, if nothing else. Certainly your and your wife's deaths were . . . well, suspicious. And you're hardly the first archeologists to dig up a god or six."

Oh, okay. Well.

This is apparently what Billy gets for his personal mental image of a "hero" being his dad, then, isn't it.

Crap.

"To be honest I've been looking for Billy for a while now, I just didn't want to bring it up before I found him," Batman admits, looking dissatisfied with himself. "My most recent reliable intel puts him in Fawcett City, but I assume you're aware of that, given your evident attachment to the place."

"You're looking for Billy?" Billy asks incredulously. "Why?"

"Because he's your son," Batman says. "And because he's a homeless child who's been abused and neglected and needs help. I honestly don't know where you go when you're not being Captain Marvel–frankly I'm not sure if you even exist when you're not being Captain Marvel, given what little I actually know about your powers and your death and your role as the Champion of Magic and just how damn impossible you are to find when you're off-duty–but I'm assuming that wherever it happens to be is not necessarily conducive to providing a stable home environment and being legally dead certainly can't be helping with that, so my original intention was to find the boy and help you arrange some manner of care for and visitation with him. And given the revelation of your relation to Robin, well . . . I'd like to take Billy in myself, if you'd both be comfortable with that. It seems . . . appropriate, under the circumstances."

"You want to foster Billy because I'm Robin's soulmate?" Billy says, absolutely positive that he's misunderstood literally every single word that just came out of Batman's mouth. There is no possible way that he did not.

"It's not exactly out of my wheelhouse," Batman replies wryly. "Although I'll be keeping this one out of the tights, ideally. Though I make no long-term promises about that because quite frankly at this point I'm spoiled for soulmates who insist on wearing capes and I wouldn't really be surprised to turn up another one, especially given that Robin is yours and your own involvement in the superhero community."

Billy stares at him.

"Wait, are all the Gotham vigilantes your soulkids?" he blurts unthinkingly.

"Not all," Batman says. "But, well . . . probably more of them than you'd expect."

"Oh my god," Billy says in disbelief. "And you're just telling me that?! You don't tell people things, you're Batman!"

"I haven't always been the father I should have been," Batman says, and then he pulls down his cowl. Billy chokes, and then chokes again because apparently Batman is Bruce freaking Wayne and his brain just . . . just needs a moment to process that fact, like there is literally any way whatsoever that he could ever actually process that fact. He would've been less surprised to see a Kardashian under that mask, he's pretty sure. At least they've got athletes in the family, technically! "So I'm not going to make things difficult for you with Robin. Clearly he needs more than I'm capable of providing, and I'm perfectly willing to be transparent and to co-parent with you as much as possible. I want Robin to be safe and content and grow up well, and frankly put, Batson, you've proven yourself to be a good man time and again and I trust you to do what's best by our son."

Okay, well, now Billy just feels like dirt.

"You do know what happened to Billy, don't you?" he asks just a little bit desperately, because there is literally no way that this conversation is a real and actual thing that's really and actually happening. "Like, just–everything that happened there? There's a reason he's not in school or the system or with a relative or anything like that."

"What happened to Billy wasn't your fault," Batman tells him, meeting his eyes all quiet and intent and sincere. "And I will do everything in my power to help you make it right."

"Oh no, you're actually like . . . just genuinely a really good person, aren't you," Billy says despairingly, staring at him all over again and really, really wishing he could swear right now.

Maybe he'll just go throw himself into the sun. Maybe that's what he'll just go and do.

The corner of Batman's mouth quirks up wryly. His eyes even crinkle a little, which Billy can see on account of his total lack of cowl right now, oh god.

Billy despairs.

"I mean it," Batman says gently. "It wasn't your fault, and it doesn't mean you can't be a good father now."

"I need to talk to Robin," Billy says, because he definitely, definitely needs to talk to Robin. Batman inclines his head in an accepting nod, because Batman is probably under the impression that Billy wants to go give Robin a good ol' traditional "I know I'm not your biodad but I'm here for you, champ!" kind of speech, and Billy just . . . really cannot explain the real situation to him right now. Or ever.

Can he just lie to Batman for the rest of their lives, maybe? He can just pretend to be his own dad for the Justice League and keep dodging whatever Bat-surveillance happens to be in Fawcett and parent his older-than-he-is soulmate, right? That's a thing that he can do?

That's probably not a thing that he can do.

Although he might be willing to try, at this point.

[charlieeenby]

let me show you how to kill a man

the bat won't kill, it's a line he won't cross. his birds, however, are a different story

warnings and tags: murder, violence, injury

title from how to kill a man by bloody civilian

What everyone knows, is that Batman doesn’t kill. He can’t, or won’t, cross that line, and he doesn’t think that killing is the answer.

But he knows that it’s necessary sometimes, and while he’ll never kill, he knows that his children don’t share the same sentiment.

So when it comes down to it, he lets them, and over the years, he’s gotten a little more lax with that rule, trusting his children’s judgement of a situation, and when they need to, he turns his back, doesn’t acknowledge it, and let’s them do what they have to.

But he’s managed to keep it a secret from most, only a select few surviving his the feral sides every one of his children hid from most of the world.

A group of four men stood with their backs facing each other, knives and fists up, ready, for a fight.

But they wouldn’t get one. Batman dropped down from the rafters, but he seemed focused on the kids the men had placed in cages.

Before any of them could react, Nightwing dropped on top of one of them, snapping his neck in one fluid motion. Then he lunged for a second. The other two tried to attack him, but he was able to fend them off, on taking a blow to the face from an escrima stick, the other, a kick to the knee.

Nightwing snapped the neck of the man under him, then stepped to the one who’s knee he’s kicked in. He reached down and snapped his neck. Then he moved over to the fourth man, who swung his knife at him. Nightwing grabbed it, twisting it out of his hand, then stabbed him in the throat, no screams able to escape.

He stood, made sure there was no blood on his suit, then made his way over to Batman and the kids, helping his father get all of them home safe.

Afterwards, Batman asked him if the goons had been handled.

“Of course. Quick and quiet. Hood’s gonna take care of the rest.”

“Good. Let’s go home.”

“Batman doesn’t kill, which means you can’t stop me!”

Gordon growled under his breath, wishing at that moment that Batman did kill, because if someone didn’t kill this weeks psycho, he’d end up leveling the city a few months down the line.

When he looked over to Batman, he was surprised to see that the man had straightened up, hands relaxed at his sides. He had an odd expression on his face, on Gordon couldn’t quite read.

Then he said, very calmly, “You’re right. I don’t kill. I can’t stop you.” Gordon watched him put a hand on his belt for a brief second before dropping it to his side.

The rouge started cackling, ranting and raving about how he was going to be the first to beat Batman, but when he looked down at Batman, and saw the smirk on his face, he stopped.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he yelled, panic clear in his voice.

“I don’t kill, but he does.” Batman said.

“Who -” he was cut off by a gunshot and a bullet piercing his skull. Gordon looked up and found the Red Hood with a rifle.

“He killed almost an entire army, Batman!” Ra’s screamed. “He blew them up because I upset him.”

Batman leveled him with a blank look, but said nothing.

“You don’t kill. Are you going to just let your son kill of thousands of people?”

For a beat, Batman stayed quiet. Then he said. “I don’t let Red Robin do anything. He does what he wants, and you tried to blackmail and kill him. You threatened him, his friends and his family. What he did to keep them safe is not in my control.

“I don’t kill, but if he found it necessary, then I trust his judgement. I’m sure you’ll recover, Ra’s.”

Ra’s stared at him, and Batman turned and guided Red Robin and his team out of Ra’s’ palace.

“Batman, control your hell spawn!” Black Mask screamed, though it was cut off with a gurgle. Robin drove his sword through the crime lord’s throat, and Batman turned away, working through the files on the computer.

Robin came over to his side, blood on his face and sword.

Batman glanced at him, then said, “You have blood on your face. Please clean it off before we talk to the Commissioner.”

“Yes, Father.” Robin did as asked, making sure his face was clear of blood, then followed his father out of the hotel and onto the street where Gordon and his men were waiting.

“Batman. Are we clear to enter?”

“Yes. Black Mask is dead.” Batman said, handing over a flash drive to Gordon. “I have a copy as well.”

Gordon nodded slowly. “Dead?”

“He attacked Robin. Robin defended himself.” Batman said simply. Then he used his grapple gun to launch himself to a roof, Robin following closely behind.

“Okay, then.” Gordon said to himself, not sure how to react to that, especially after he'd seen Red Hood shoot a man after it seemed like Batman had given him the go ahead. 

While Barbra was Batgirl, she was safety and a warm light for the victims they all saved together. She was inspiration for little girls. She was violence, sure, but she was comfort, too.

Tonight, she was all violence. She and Batman had arrived a moment too late, and she was angry. She wanted vengeance and she would have it. Not even Batman would stop her.

No one could stop her when she rose from that little girls body and stepped forward, pulling out the knife her father had given her for her birthday. No one could stop her when she lunged, blade plunging into the killer’s throat, tearing it open. Blood spirted, spraying across her face.

And no one stopped her.

When the man was dead, and she was the killer, she stepped back, and looked to Batman.

He had bundled up the dead girl, wrapped her in his cape and covered her face. And then he had waited for Batgirl to finish. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded once.

“Go back to the cave and clean up. I’ll handle this.” he spoke softly, and there was no anger in his tone.

“Okay,” she said, and that was that.

Cass, Steph, and Jason were thick as thieves, and these days, Bruce rarely sees one without the other, especially on patrol.

So it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Spoiler called in saying that she, Orphan, and Hood needed backup.

Batman responded to the call, Nightwing a minute behind. When he arrived, he could hear fighting in the alleyway, but no gunshots, which worried him. Hood was quick to fire his guns when his siblings were in danger, and of all the times for him to use them.

But the air didn’t echo, it was still, quiet.

Batman dropped into the alleyway in time to watch Spoiler yank a knife from Orphan’s shaking hand, spin on her heel, and plunge the blade into a man’s eye, grinning under her mask as he screamed.

Hood came up behind the man and pulled a batarang across his throat, blood spilling down his chest. Even though he couldn’t see Hood’s face, Batman had the distinct impression that he had a grin that matched Spoiler’s.

Not pausing to hesitate, Batman moved to Orphan’s side, making sure she saw him before pulling her into a firm embrace. It was then that he saw the half dozen other bodies in the alley, all dead.

He looked to Spoiler and Hood.

Spoiler spoke up. “They attacked Orphan. She couldn’t kill them, so we did.” there was no room for argument, not that he had one.

“Thank you.”

Looking down at Orphan, he realized she was still shaking. “Sweetheart, it’s over. You’re safe.” he tried to soothe, though he wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong.

A hand rose and signed, “I thought I’d have to kill them.”

The shaking made sense now. “No, sweetheart, you will never have to kill again. I swear. And even if you did, I would still love you. You’d still be my daughter. Nothing will change that.”

Orphan laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank, you, Dad.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

Batman stood on the rooftop, watching Spoiler go after her father, a flash of purple here and there the only sign of her.

Cluemaster was no match for the girl he claimed to be the father to. He’d only hurt her, sharpened the blade.

But Spoiler was who she was in spite of her father, not because of him.

She became the one to beat him so she could save people. And when Batman had found her, he’d helped her hone the skills she already had, helped her improve. And while he’d done that, he’d given her a home, a family, and most importantly, he’d given her love.

Now she was gutting her father, preventing him from causing anymore suffering.

And when she swung up to the roof Batman was on and saw him, she ran to him, ran into his arms, and clung to him.

“He’s gone, sweetheart. He can’t hurt you or anyone ever again. You’re safe.” he whispered, holding her gently. “I’ve got you.”

While the other’s killing had never surprised Batman, Signal came as a slight surprise. But only slight. He was a bright, warm light, often reminding his family of the sun.

But the sun was fire, and fire burns. So when Signal came face to face with the Joker only a few months after losing his parents, Batman wasn’t sure what to expect.

When Signal caught sight of Joker, he snarled, and tensed up, ready to fight. The Joker had cackled and started taunting Signal.

Red Hood was about to step in when Signal grabbed Hood’s gun and fired every round into the Joker’s head, until his face was obliterated and unidentifiable. Then he’d dropped the gun and fell to his knees.

Batman stepped up next to him and set a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “He’s dead, Signal. It’s over.” he said, voice as gruff as ever.

“I know.”

For a moment, they were all quiet, not sure what to do. Then Batman offered a hand to Signal and helped him up. “You good?” he asked, looking his son over.

Signal didn’t answer right away, but then he said, “I will be… thank you.”

Batman smiled. “Of course.”

Of all the times for his children to start killing people, now was the worst time. He couldn’t just ignore it because the Justice League was here. So Batman was not having a good time.

“Batman,” Flash started, voice shrill. “Nightwing just tore a man’s head off.”

To his left, Orphan snickered, not that anyone would know aside from him, but she did. Batman sighed.

“I saw that, Flash, thank you.” What was he supposed to do?

“Batman, almost all of your… children are actively killing people. Signal and Orphan are the only one’s who aren���t.” Superman said. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

Batman looked at him. He hesitated.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Superman was an inch away, worry clear on his face.

On his right, Signal cleared his throat. “I feel like it’s a good time to point out that one, the people they’re killing are all of the rapists that have ever existed on earth, come back to life, and two, no one else is doing anything about it.”

Batman grinned. Well, the corner of his mouth ticked up, but it may as well have been a grin with the way Superman stared at him.

“Batman?” he asked incredulously.

“Hn?”

“Do something!”

Batman tilted his head, grunted, then walked over to the ledge they were all on. “Hey!” he yelled and the fighting stopped, all of his children stopping and staring at him. “Superman wants you to stop killing.”

For a good thirty seconds, no one moved or said anything. Then on the comms, Batman heard Hood snort.

“B, will you please tell Superman to, respectfully, get fucked?” Nightwing said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Batman grunted, then turned to the League. “Superman, Nightwing told me to tell you to get fucked. Respectfully.” he said, deadpan. Then he walked back to where he was standing.

Bonus:

It had been twenty years since the Wayne’s brutal murder in that alley way, ten since Batman had started, and one since Dick had joined the family. Today, someone was breaking into the manor.

Alfred sighed as he loaded his shot gun. This would be messy to clean up, but he never missed and he didn’t share the same sentiment as his son.

So he after he finished loading it, he stepped into the hallway, moving silently towards the living room. Must be idiot intruders, thinking there’d be anything to take there.

When he stood in the doorway of the room, he raised his riffle, counted the men – there were three – then spoke.

“Hello.”

They all spun around staring wide eyed at the shot gun.

Alfred grinned. “Goodbye.” he fired three shots in quick succession, all three of them dead. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Bruce flew around the corner, panic on his face.

“Nothing to fret over, Master Bruce.” Alfred said calmly. “I’ve handled it. The mess will be cleaned up before breakfast. Now go back to bed, dear boy.”

Bruce gave him an odd look, eyeing the shot gun, then nodded and went back to bed.

In the morning, when Bruce looked into the living room, it was spotless, nothing out of place. No one said anything about it. 

[fandoms-in-law]

Seeing Through

Summary: Today, Steve is moving out and his parents choose now to have one of their random days home.

Author's note: Why does it feel like half these prompts are the same or similar? I need to reduce the amount of Steve songs prompts I put down.

My Idea for this Fic: 'I see Through You' - Taboo songfic - Steve moving out, saying fuck you to his parents.

/\/

They weren’t meant to come home. Steve had planned everything around his parents never being there.

Except there they were pulling into the driveway as the Party helped him load all his things onto Eddie’s van; and his father did not look happy.

“Quit groaning, Wheeler, or you’re unloading all the boxes alone later.” Eddie laughed as he and Mike carried Steve’s mattress out. His parents would assume that was theirs, that Steve was taking furniture they’d brought with him, but after injuries and fighting the Upside Down for so long, he’d replaced it, saved and spent his own money to have a better nights sleep.

“Steven!” His parents had gotten out of the car now, and the yell had anyone close enough hurrying out, concerned looks on their faces. “What is the meaning of this thievery?”

Steve glanced from them back to the house, and around at the people he called his family. “I’m moving out. Not going to leave anything I brought in your mausoleum.” He replied, measuring the space between them and how much slower than a demodog they moved.

After everything they’d fought, after finally moving out, there wasn’t much power his parent could swing over him. Also Hopper was probably just inside, ready to either come out or go to his room depending on how his parents reacted now. The likelihood they’d try to call, or at least threaten them with, the police was decent but Hopper would cut that off immediately if they saw him.

“That mattress-” His father began again, gesturing harshly before Steve cut him off.

“-I brought myself. Yours will be back on that bed frame by now.” That had been his request, whomever was bringing his mattress down put the old one on before bringing it out, and Eddie double checked it just twenty minutes ago.

A cold laugh came in response. “You expect me to believe that? With the crooks van you got to move your things in plain view.”

Steve bristled, glancing over to check Eddie wasn’t about to react for him. “That van and its owner have done more honest work in the last 6 months than you two have in your entire lives. They’re my family; you’re strangers who share my DNA”

“At least we aren’t common thieves.” Hello Mother, nice of you to join the conversation, Steve thought meeting her narrowed gaze.

“Of course you are.” He scoffed, “White collar crime, Nancy called it. Underpaying workers, dodging taxes. You’re crooks in pretty clothes but common enough. I’ve seen through the mask and I’m gone. No more son for you to forget about.”

“We don’t forget you and the destruction you’re doing to our name.”

“Stop twisting your reality to fit your views. This is me taking my life out of your hands in the sweetest goodbye. Actually you’re making it a bit bitter by your presence. How about you fuck off as you usually have done?” Steve had noticed his father focus more on the van again, and Mike stood near it while Eddie disappeared into the back of it. Baiting them would keep the focus where it needed to be.

Possibly not that much though, as his father took a step closer, “You aren’t leaving. What money do you have to-”

“Quite a bit actually. Or did you assume the jobs you forced him to get paid nothing?” Robin was at his side now, Nancy’s handbag under her arm.

“Odd accessory choice. She got one of them?” He quietly asked, knowing that Nance was still likely to have two guns in her bag.

He didn’t need her now before turning back to his parents. “Also Grandfather died. I know you were far too busy for the funeral but I inherited a far amount from him despite you never allowing him contact. Guess you never were god.”

His father tried to retort, but didn’t get a word out. His mother simply levelled a judgemental look at him, one he hoped nobody suggested was similar to looks he pulled, before heading into the house, “And that was your Grandfather’s failing, wasting funds on untrustworthy youth. I shall be ensuring none of our things are taken.”

Once his parents were inside, Robin and Eddie were leaning on each of his shoulder’s, nail bat left leaning against the doors to the truck with Mike. “Wait, did you really inherit from your Grandad?”

“Yeah, we wrote letters for a while. First did it after finding his address, half sobbing cause they’d abandoned me. So many tears cried over such worthless people.” Steve replied, “I found better easily.”

/\

“Steven.” His mother called, stopping him from climbing into the van, some letters in hand. “Why are all these utility companies saying they’ll be cut off from tomorrow?”

He blinked at her, continuing to sit down. “Because I saw through you. You tried turning them off ages ago just expecting me to pick the bills up, so I did. And now I’ve told them all I, the bill payer, will no longer be living here. They were very understanding.”

With the door shutting Eddie had them on their way to the apartment they’d gotten. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be far more of a home and a family than he was leaving.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

@bruciemilf Batcat with baby Dick

“You're getting sloppy,” Selina greeted Bruce from the couch.

She liked to surprise the bat and sneak into his house. But it got too easy when the owner of the house left a back window open for her.

"Selina? What are you doing here?" the billionaire asked, having the audacity to look surprised. Here, a woman disappeared for a few months, and she was immediately forgotten. 

She stood up, walking over to him and putting her arms around his neck, "Well, it's Christmas Eve. I've come to unwrap my present."

Selina was the first to acknowledge that she and Bruce didn't have a typical relationship. Heck, even saying they were in a relationship was an exaggeration: they played chasing each other, between the roofs and at galas, both wearing different masks, pathological liars who had recognized each other.

They couldn't be together, not when they had such different morals and both were too stubborn to back down.

Such a pity. For those lips, she would have abandoned anything. It would have taken so little to be happy, but Selina supposed that some people weren't made for happiness.

Bruce gently pushed her away, "Selina, now is not the time."

"Are you afraid your butler won't approve?" she teased him, her arms still around his neck. 

Bruce pursed his lips, "It's not him I worry about."

"So how about we screw up this couch and..."

A small voice interrupted her, "Bruce? Who is with you?"

Selina's eyes widened. Standing by the door was a kid in Superman pajamas, messy black hair, and bleary blue eyes. He looks like a miniature Bruce. 

Bruce seemed to suddenly age ten years, "Selina, this is Dick. Dick, she's...my friend."

Friend seemed a lot better than she is a criminal I occasionally have sex with, but Selina was still too shocked that Bruce Wayne, emotionally stunted and with more trauma than scars, had a child and she didn't know it.

"Do you have a son?" finally the woman blurted out, genuinely surprised.

"Why are you so surprised? Haven't you read the newspapers?"

"I've been busy," she said evasively. Selina hadn't been in Gotham for months, keeping herself off the radar of people she'd pissed off. She had stayed out of trouble long enough not to make the bat suspicious. 

Who would have guessed that Selina was the least of his thoughts?

"Did the mother sue you for alimony? That's why he lives with you now?"

"No, his...his parents...the ropes snapped and they...they didn't make it."

Oh. Oh.

The boy had lost his parents, like Bruce. That's why the man welcomed him. Bruce had seen himself in the boy.

She pulled away from Bruce and smiled at Dick. First impressions mattered.

Dick looked at her warily, "She doesn't look like a friend to me."

"Why do you say that?"

"You look like a thief."

She laughed. Smart boy. Selina told him conspiratorially, "Don't worry. I only steal from those who deserve it."

The boy cocked his head, "Like Robin Hood?"

"Just like him."

"Wow!" he exclaimed, his wondering look making her laugh.

"Does Bruce deserve it?" Dick asked.

Selina hummed, "The only thing I want to steal from him...is his heart."

Behind her, she heard Bruce begin to breathe again. Seriously, who did he take her for? She wasn't that shameless.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Dick seemed genuinely concerned about his new guardian.

"Oh yeah, it hurts a lot. If you want it, go for it. Take a risk. Don't always play it safe or you'll die wondering."

Urgh, she was getting sentimental. It was the fault of the holidays. She used to get corny at Christmas.

Dick blinked, but before he asked any more potentially awkward questions - or something that would force either of them, god forbid, to talk about feelings - Bruce interjected, "Selina came to say hello. She's leaving now."

“She can't stay?” Dick almost begged.

"She seems nice."

"You have to go to sleep or Santa won't come," Bruce reminded him calmly, the softest voice she'd ever heard him use. Fatherhood suited him.

"But I want to see Santa Claus!"

"Well," Selina chimed in.

"We could wait for him together. What do you think?"

"Really?" 

"I could tell you a story while we wait."

Dick nodded vigorously and flung himself onto the couch. Bruce looked at her as if she'd helped Poison Ivy escape Arkham.

Selina sat down next to the overexcited boy, and started rubbing his head. She spoke softly, "You know, even at your age, I was waiting for Santa to come. My mom and I used to make him cookies, putting a lot of chocolate chips in them..."

Selina had never had the luxury of believing in Santa Claus, and sure as hell her mother had never baked cookies.

But the beauty of stories was that they didn't necessarily have to be true to be told. Within half an hour, Dick was asleep on her lap, and Bruce was staring at her in amazement.

"How did you do?"

"He was already tired," Selina explained to him.

"I just had to create the right atmosphere for him to fall asleep. Plus, kittens love it when I give them head scratches."

Bruce snorted, "He's not a kitten."

"You're right. He's a baby bat."

The man shook his head, "He's got too much color in him to be a bat. No, Dick is a bird. He's built to fly much higher than me."

The thief looked at him pityingly, "Oh, Bruce. Birds are fragile creatures."

"I know. Probably, I'll ruin him. But maybe…maybe I can learn to be more human, for Dick."

Selina teased him, "The big bat is getting softer."

"Maybe," was all Bruce answered. He took the sleeping boy by the arm, looking at Selina, "Dick comes first."

"Got it. The child comes first. What about me?"

"You..."

She laughed, "I was kidding, silly. I would never get between a single parent and his child."

"Selina...Dick comes first, but I wouldn't mind if you too...come to visit him more often."

"Are you asking me to be his cat mom?" Selina asked half jokingly and half seriously.

"If you want."

"Mhm...I will think about it."

It wasn't a no. For now, it would have been enough for both of them.

Selina gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and like a teenager on a first date she whispered in his ear, "If you want to come looking for me without the kid, you know where to find me."

Selina left much the same way she had arrived, in a whiff of subtle perfume and mischief, feeling her heart heavy and her mind full of what-ifs.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 20/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty: Bash/Ball

"Let me get one more picture," Jim smiled. Jason's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "It's your first dance. I just want to make sure I get enough pictures. Now, Barbara, come take a picture with your brother—."

"Pop," Jason complained. Jim's eyes widened as he motioned for them to stand close to each other.

Jason held his cape up to his face as he stood next to Barbara. He looked over at her and whispered, "I'm Batman," in a gruff voice. Barbara let out a laugh, and Jim snapped a picture of the two of them laughing.

"This is the last picture, I promise," Jim whispered as he put the camera on a timer and set it on the kitchen counter. "I tested it earlier. Stand right here," Jim replied as he took one photo with Barbara and Jason. After that, Jason said goodnight to Barbara and followed Jim down to the car.

Jim waited a while before pulling off, and he handed Jason his wallet. "Get a twenty out of my wall—."

"You've got a picture of me in here," Jason whispered.

"Well, I think it'd be awful hard to brag about you without a visual," Jim joked, "But really, you're my son. Why wouldn't I have your picture in my wallet? Before this year is over, I'll probably have to build a mantle or something for all the new pictures."

Jason smiled as Jim drove. "I love you, Pop," Jason whispered. Jim took a deep breath so that he wouldn't get all choked up, and he smiled.

"I love you too, Son," Jim whispered, "And I want you to have fun tonight. If you don't call me to pick you up early, I'll be back for you at midnight."

"Do these things really run until midnight?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Wow. And you're okay with me staying the whole time if I wanna?"

"Yeah, why not. You stay at school 'til ten p.m. most nights, what's two hours difference?" Jim smiled. Jason put on his mask in the mirror. "I know you didn't go last year, but I was wondering if you were gonna go trick-or-treating with your friends this year?"

"I can still do that?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Well, I'll probably just go with Barbara or Reese and A.J. if they wanna go."

"You're not gonna ask the girls?" Jim asked.

"No, they go out of town for Halloween," Jason replied.

"A.J. and Reese are those football boys, right?" Jim asked. Jason nodded and chuckled.

Jim dropped Jason off at the dance and waved goodbye, and Jason entered the ballroom. He walked around the ballroom looking for his friends, and he was approached by a girl who told him he couldn't reveal his identity as part of the ball's theme. Jason nodded and adjusted his posture. Jason figured that if he was going to hide his identity, he might as well play a character. Jason got something to drink and stood with his back against the wall, holding his cup away from him and watching the other kids dance with his nose in the air. Jason committed to playing his own opposite for the night. He walked around the ballroom with his nose in the air. It wasn't until a boy much taller than him brushed his hand and he froze. Jason grabbed his hand, and they both stood there frozen in a crowd of people. The taller boy leaned down to whisper in Jason's ear. "May I have this dance?" he asked. Jason nodded.

"Perhaps," Jason replied as the boy led Jason in one slow dance before disappearing into the crowd. It wasn't until Jason snapped out of the shock of what just happened that he realized who he'd danced with. Jason didn't chase him. Instead, he walked out to the balcony and started pacing back and forth in a panic. A teacher dressed as a plague doctor came out and nudged him back inside, but Jason didn't recognize the voice. He obeyed despite his instincts to ask who the man was. He went back inside and decided to search for his friend.

Not too long after, he heard a loud pop and a hissing noise, and the last thing he remembered was the burning sensation in his eyes. He woke up in the emergency room feeling sick to his stomach. His hands shook violently as the lights burned his eyes. He couldn't see clearly. His throat was sore from whatever chemical he must've inhaled, barely managing to mutter a hoarse warning that he was going to be sick. He vomited into a sick bag and lay back. A hand touched his forehead and made sure the oxygen tubes were in his nose. "I've got you, son," Jim whispered, "Do you remember anything?"

Jason shook his head. His vision was still blurred from the chemicals, and he couldn't see who else was in the room with him. "Jason, literally anything. Try to think," Jim urged him.

"Plague doctor took me back inside," Jason mumbled. His head ached, and he felt pins and needles all over his body as if he couldn't come down from panic. He reached to touch his eyes, and Jim grabbed them. "I wanna go home."

"Jason, we don't know what you were hit with. Every emergency room in Gotham is packed with kids from your school, and it sounds like you're all going to be held overnight for observation," Barbara explained.

Jason closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Jim sighed. "We're not leaving your side, I promise," Jim reassured. Jason took a shaky breath. Barbara reached over and squeezed his hand. "We're thinking it's some sort of fear toxin, but it's not like anything we've ever seen..."

"Who called 9-1-1?" Jason asked.

"You called me," Jim whispered, "You don't remember calling me at all?" Jason shook his head and opened his eyes once more. The room was a little clearer to him, and he could see their faces.

Barbara tried to mask her anger, but Jason could see it written all over her face. She was furious. He couldn't tell if she was mad at him or at the situation, but he felt like he'd failed her. Jim seemed more concerned than anything. "I don't remember anything... I'm sorry," Jason whispered. Barbara stormed out of the room without so much as a word. Jason looked over at Jim.

"She's not mad at you. She just wants to know how this happened," Jim comforted Jason. Jim sat down by Jason's bedside. "It'll probably be out of your system by morning. I know you're probably still feeling a little anxious." Jason nodded and took another deep breath. "You didn't say much on the phone. You just told me there was gas at the school and that everyone was trapped."

[marauderundercover]

A Robin in the Making: Meeting the Justice League

Bruce frowns at the monitor.

“I already told Superman that I cannot, under any circumstances, come to the Watchtower this week.” He says firmly. Oliver runs a hand down his face, obviously aggravated.

“Batman, I’m telling you, if any of us could figure out how the hell to fix it, we would. And we wouldn’t be calling your stubborn ass.” He huffs out. Bruce’s eye twitches under his cowl.

“I don’t have anyone to watch Robin.” He says, telling only a partial truth.

“Then bring the kid with! I’m sure we can figure out something for him to do while you fix the monitor station.” Oliver says. Bruce starts to argue again, because it really wouldn’t only be his oldest that he’d have to bring along, when a familiar voice cuts in.

“Whoa, really? Can we go, B, please, please, please?” Dick begs, appearing at the edge of the cave with a domino already on his face. And just like that, Bruce has no choice but to cave. Something he was sure Dick knew.

“Fine. We’ll be there in twenty.” He says curtly before hanging up. Sighing, Bruce turns to look at Dick. “You do realize Mari is going to have to go too, right?” He asks. Dick nods rapidly.

“B, you’re not even ready for how totally awesome this is going to be! I’ll go grab M.” He says, darting back up the stairs. Bruce blows out a long breath. He’d told the League that he had prior engagements in Gotham that would keep him from being on call for this entire week. With Alfred in England for another five days, he had no one to watch Dick or Marinette. Which meant he hadn’t even been patrolling for very long. Just long enough for people to notice him (something he rarely wanted as Batman), and then he went right back to the manor. Dick, as he was almost a teenager, had tried to convince Bruce that he could watch Marinette by himself for a few hours. It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t trust his son. He did. He just also knew that Marinette and Dick had been partners in crime ever since Marinette first pulled herself into a standing position. She took off after her older brother and never looked back. It never failed to put a smile on Bruce’s face- well, as long as it wasn’t accompanied by mischievous giggling from the two. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, he realizes that the giggles are definitely real and approaching quickly.

“Dick, make sure you’re holding onto her!” Bruce calls out. After Marinette had made her appearance, he’d made sure there were railings everywhere in the cave. Didn’t mean he completely trusted the railings to be failproof.

“Don’t worry daddy! Dickie’s got me!” Marinette calls out, and Bruce relaxes slightly. Until the two appear in sight and he sees what his three year old daughter is wearing.

“Richard, why does Marinette have a Robin uniform?” He asks, working hard to keep his tone calm. He already wasn’t thrilled that Dick was running around every other night fighting crime. It terrified him, but the idea of Dick going out as Robin by himself and getting injured because he didn’t tell Bruce where he was going- that fear far outweighed the fear that Bruce had when he would spot his son out of the corner of his eye while going against a mugger. But his daughter, who was still a toddler, wearing a domino mask was a little too much for him.

“It’s not really a uniform, B. She’s not gonna go out and kick the Joker’s butt or anything. I just thought it’d be cool for her to be able to match me if we ever got to meet the League together. Pretty cool, right?” Dick presses, and Bruce takes a second to breathe. Looking closer, the outfit clearly just mimicked the Robin colors, and was obviously not made to fight in. It was, unfortunately, cute. There was even a tiny bat symbol on the belt of it.

“I’m a hero!” Marinette chirps happily, grinning up at him. Bruce softens immediately, crouching down so he can be more on her level.

“You make a great hero, sweetheart. Now remember, what do you call Dickie when he gets his outfit on?” Bruce asks. Ever since she’d started talking, he’d tried to drill the importance of secret identities to her. He knew it wasn’t exactly traditional parenting, but he figured it was better than just lying to her about such a big part of his life. She grins widely.

“Dickie is Robin and you’re B.” She says, rattling the words off as if she’d rehearsed them (he knew she had). Bruce smiles and picks her up, tossing her gently into the air before catching her, heart warming as she giggles and shrieks.

“Very good.” He says, then pauses as he realizes she doesn’t have a secret identity.

“I say we call her Bug, cause that’s already what Lucius and you call her when she has to go to WE.” Dick pipes up, walking back into the main part of the cave as he pulls on his last shoe. Bruce glances down at his daughter.

“Does that work for you?” He asks. She nods, grinning. Bruce exhales deeply. “Very well. Who’s ready to meet the Justice League?”

---

The second they zeta onto the Watchtower, Dick runs to the center of the room, slowly turning as he tries to take in everything. He’d met a few of the other heroes at the Hall of Justice before, but B had never let him go to space before!

“Hey sport. Where’s your old man?” Ollie asks, walking in with his arms crossed. Dick nods towards the zeta tubes.

“He’s gotta get Bug set up first, but he said it was fine for me to come ahead.” Dick explains. Ollie frowns.

“Bug?” He asks. “Is that a person?” Dick nods.

“Yup! She’s my little sister.” He says, and Ollie’s jaw drops.

“She- what- Batman has more than one kid?” He gasps. Dick snorts. It was always funny to see people’s reactions to B having kids. Before he can explain more, the zeta tube announces B and Mari’s arrival.

“B! B, look! Stars!” Marinette gasps, immediately tugging B over to the windows. Dick giggles at the look on Ollie’s face.

“Green Arrow. I assume you have figured out where Robin and Bug can go?” B asks, glancing back at the other hero while Mari was focused on the stars. Ollie sputters for a minute.

“What- I- what the hell, Batman! We had an idea for Robin, not a freaking toddler!” He huffs out. Marinette tilts her head to the side, and Dick’s eyes widen. Uh oh.

“B? What does ‘hell’ mean?” She asks, frowning.

“Oh sh-”

“Unless you want to teach her two new words today, I suggest you shut your mouth.” Batman says lowly. Ollie’s jaw snaps shut as he nods slowly. B turns to Mari. “That’s not a word we use, Bug. Green Arrow is going to have to go sit in time out becuase he said it. You don’t want to sit in time out, right?” Mari shakes her head rapidly.

“No! No fank you.” She says, messing up her ‘th’ like usual. Dick thought it made her the cutest kid ever.

“Very well. Robin, stay here with Bug. I’ll walk Green Arrow to time out and send Superman back here.” B says. Dick nods, and Mari rushes over to him.

“C’mon! Let’s do flips!” She says excitedly. Dick grins, immediately rushing over to help her with her cartwheels. He loved being a big brother.

@maribat-get-in

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 23: Riding in style

You & Robin head to your bathroom to have one more once over checking your hair & makeup when she gives you a questioning look “What… robs why you looking at me like that?” She’s quiet for a minute “hold on I want you to put something in your purse just in case” she goes into your bedroom & comes back with a square foil wrapper “here I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything tonight if you do I’ll kick his ass but if you’re planning on.. ya know?… I want you to be prepared we don’t need to have a group freak attack & a mini munson running around one is enough for the time being” she laughs putting it into your bag. You hear the guys talking in the other room. “Ladies our rides gonna be here any minute!” Eddie calling for you both. Heading to the guys & towards the door you’re all not too sure what to expect it’s Eddie for all you know it could be a hearse all at the curb nervous, excited & curious to what’s to come you see Eddie split into a shit eating grin you turn to see what he’s looking at a 1955 baby blue Chevy bel air with white wall tires pulls up to your house you’re all in awe Steve turns to Eddie “sweet nice one munson” Eddie nods in agreement “yeah Wayne had a favor from a buddy at the plant who’s son owns a car rental spot outside of town so for tonight she’s ours” he smiles as Aaron approaches handing Eddie the keys “take care of my baby munson one scratch one dent & I’ll shave your head i swear” Eddie chuckles “hey man no need to threaten my mane I’ll take good care of her like I do with this precious thing” as he pulls you into his side smiling Aaron smiles at you all “have a fun guys”. Eddie opens your door as Steve opens robins you all buckle up as Eddie starts the engine “hell yeah everyone ready?!” You take his spare hand in yours “ready” you wink at him & off you go. On the way over you all share a few joints & a bunch of laughs as you all get ready to pull up into Hawkins High parking lot & get out you & Eddie’s masks as robin & Steve put on theirs. Eddie kills the engine & turns to you shooting a wink grabbing your hand giving it the most tender kiss. The two gentlemen exiting the car to open the doors for you ladies Eddie & you intertwine your fingers as Steve and robin link their arms you all head your way towards the gym smiling & ready to enjoy the night with each other.

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: Two Birds On a Wire

Summary:

Damian and Jon, and their views on the moment that the Super Sons - and their friendship - cracked. the supersons broke up yall im sry-

for prompt six: Friendship

Two birds on a wire…

They watched each other, Damian sitting on their old Gotham rooftop as Jon seemingly descended from the stars. It was almost a remake of a few months before, except for a few rather striking differences. The wind swept Jon’s curls to the side, tearful pools of sapphire blue desperately searching for the boy’s gaze.

His domino was off, and for his credit, Damian’s gaze stayed steely, looking straight ahead. The black cape he wore whipped around him in the Gotham chill, the reds of his kevlar suit bringing out his caramel complexion. 

Touching down onto the rooftop, Jon inched closer to him until Damian stood straight up, fiddling with the mask in his hand, seemingly a nervous tactic.

One tries to fly away…

“Stop.” 

Damian looked up, piercing the indestructible Kryptonian with his gaze. He twirled the mask in his hand, debating whether or not to put it back on. Jon stood in front of him, having recoiled at his words.

This boy, someone he had once treasured and still did, someone he would have once killed for, had gone as Damian's best friend, and had come back as someone completely different.

If it had just been the trauma, he would have understood, who else but him understood how deep a scarred childhood could go. 

He had never treated Jon as anything less than an equal. He, yes, had looked down on him, had once considered him a danger to society as we know it, but he had never treated him as an incapable small child, someone who could have gone off the rails at any given moment, destroying everything. 

Sure, that was a little hypocritical, and perhaps he was justifying himself a bit too much because he probably has done exactly that,, but that wasn't the point.

The point was it had always been them two, Jon and Damian against the world. 

And then Jon came back older. bigger , stronger, with a stupid boyfriend.

Romance was stupid. Feelings were stupid. 

And so, he closed himself off. If everything was going to change, if his oldest, only friend, was going to change and leave him alone with all these incompetent people who called themselves heroes, then he sure as hell was going to make sure he left first.

And the other stays…

“Dami…I-”

Jon reached out again for him, watching the pain fill the green eyes he’d so desperately missed. 

He’d come back, and sure, he didn't say bye, but they were still the Super Sons, right? Robin and Superboy, although now he was technically the oldest AND tallest of the two, but he could muster up some big brother energy and let his name go first.

He knew he would have o take more charge now, be a bit more assertive here, and that was in. He couldn't understand how or why Damian was so appalled about this. It hurt that they wouldn't go to school together again or grow up together, but that would pass, and Jon had already gotten much more used to being practically an adult, so why hasn't damian?

They were still best friends. They would always be best friends. 

He knew he was all Damian had, so why was the younger trying to pull away so much?

Two birds of a feather….

They stood there, on the rooftop, these conflicting thoughts running through their heads.

“You’re so much taller then me now.” Damian spoke suddenly.

Jon took a step closer and tried to joke. “Yeah, shorty-pants.”

“You're bigger, broader. Your hair got longer. A part of me swore it was you, when i saw you coming towards me. But everything else didn't know who you were.”

Damian made a motion as if he were hugging himself, and as he looked down, Jon could feel the hurt coming off in waves. 

“The only thing that could vaguely clue me in was your eyes. Same beautiful, haunting shade of blue. But they held ghosts. They were so deeply pained, heavy with trauma. Not my Jon’s eyes.”

The Super’s throat went dry, and while his heart broke at the description and his eyes welled with tears, anger bubbled up instead.

“So what, you’re blaming my six year space trauma for whatever the hell is goinng on between us right now? Because if thats the case, then kid, you’re just as spoiled and entitled as-”

A broken laugh was barked out, as Damian pointed at him with his mask. 

“That, that right there is another reason. I don’t even know if you relized it. You  wanna know the top reasonon this list? It’s because i lost my best friend.”

“Damian. I am right here.” Jon spat out each word as if they caused a vile taste in his mouth.

“Everyone mourns the loss the little boy, but i couldnt fucking care less. I lost the only person who would ever consider me an equal. One who wouldnt judge me for who i was, who i’ve become. Someone who would stick through with me. Not one who would call me ‘kid’ and force me out of missions. I don’t need another goddamn big brother, Jon, I have six older siblings. i have never seen you as kin, i never will.”

Say that they’re always gonna stay together….

Domino was plastered back on, completing the walls being built back up. They had seen each other at their most vulnrable, and Damian was never letting anyne past his barriers ever again.

He told himself that he didn't care about the tears in Jon’s eyes, the soft little cries. He forced himself to keep the water pouring from his own eyes concealed in his mask

“Is that just it then?” Jon scrubbed his eyes. “Are we done?”

Damian paused, willing himse;f to keep his voice steady. “If that is how you wish to call it.”

“What about younger us? What about the Super Sons?”

The bat swiveled around. “Keep their name and their legacy out of your mouth, Superman. We are not them. We can never be them again.”

His mask slipped, just slightly, but enough for Jon to see the tearful emerald eyes. 

He stood on the edge of the roof, cape flowing behind him. 

“Goodbye, Jonathan Kent.”

His hearing caught the pained sobs as the younger boy collapsed on a nearby rooftop, his heartbeat thumping erratically. 

Jon had the urge to chase after him, to help him and comfort him, but he knew that nothing would help him break through those walls again. Still, he stuck for a bit, crying himself until he heard Damian’s broken voice sniffle into his comms. 

“Please, Oracle, can you send for one of my siblings to come, I am at (coordinates). Thank you. No. I’m not injured. But not okay, either.”

He flew up into the air, leaving Gotham behind him. 

Still, despite that night, a part of his heart would always, always belong to Damian, to Gotham. Therefore,  he couldn't stop himself from uttering what he was sure would be his last words to his old best friend, knowing he would never hear it himself.

“Goodbye, Damian Wayne.”

I

Love

You

@super-sons-week-2023

[mediocres-writing-blog]

MORTAL KOMBAT LEGENDS: BLOOD BOUND

Chapter 4: The Last Draw

In the morning, Nico wakes up, yawning and stretching. He gets down and enters the room, finding Muchacha already awake. He is surprised, as he expected her to sleep in, as she didn't seem to have any interest in his appearance.

ROBIN: You're already awake? Figured you people slept longer.

MUCHACHA: Don't assume much, Bird boy. We still have work to do. So get ready, and let's move. The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can part ways.

ROBIN: Whatever you say, miss General. You're the boss. Or, you know, at least you think you are. After all, you don't have a dad to tell you what to do.

Amara, clenching her fist and grinning her teeth, slowly turns to the caped crusader.

MUCHACHA: We can have this conversation on the road, while we leave this goddamned place.

ROBIN: Whatever you say, Miss. It's not like you don't have anything smarter to say anyways.

The general takes a deep breath, trying not to give him a right hook.

MUCHACHA: Keep it together... He's just trying to rile you up. Don't give him what he wants.

Nico, satisfied with her reaction, chuckles and walks outside, leaving Amara alone. The two travel throughout the day, not stopping until the sun starts to set. Steering their steeds gently and fairly close to a cliff that stands above the Sea of Souls, Amara and Robin take a break. Muchacha, staring at the ocean and thinking about the task at hand, feels a chill going down her spine. She is shaken, and turns around, seeing Nico's mask looking right into her eyes. Robin turns to the pouch on his Outworld horsey, taking out a cookie.

ROBIN: I'm kind of hungry. Wanna have half of my almond cookie?

MUCHACHA: What trickery is this? You might as well have poisoned it, for all I know. I'm not eating it.

ROBIN: It's not poisoned. I swear on my heart. Just try it, you won't regret it.

MUCHACHA: What's the catch? The goon-ery? the bamboozle?

ROBIN: Do you want the cookie or not? 

Amara hesitates, then sighs and takes a bite of the cookie.

MUCHACHA: Wow. This is quite... this is quite nice. Thank you, Robin.

Robin smiles, and sits criss-cross by the general, pushing up his mask as he munches on his part of the cookie. Then he spoke, still chewing on the cookie.

ROBIN: No, thank YOU, for being an amazing companion. Seriously, it's been so long since I've had a good partner for an assignment. Even if the assignment is kinda shit, I'd rather have you over most other people I worked with, like Kung Jin.

MUCHACHA: Kung Jin? That twerp who beat general Kotal in a one on one? I see why you don't enjoy working with him.

ROBIN: Why you sayin' that? You like Kotal or or sum'?

MUCHACHA: What? Of course not. I respect his abilities and his role as a leader, but he's an arrogant son of a bitch. I wouldn't mind beating him, just to teach him a lesson.

She completely lied, while Robin raised a brow to her without saying anything.

MUCHACHA: SHUTUP!

ROBIN: Alright alright, don't get your fish lips in a twist, I was just playing with you. You are a bit arrogant, though, so I wouldn't blame him for thinking the same.

Amara rolls her eyes and throws a rock at him, which makes him want to give her an uppercut, but then he looks up at his mask, taking it off and looking at it.

MUCHACHA: aaaw, Are you still upset about your mask?

ROBIN: Firstly: How dare you. Secondly: Of course I'm upset. But also amazed at how you broke it in such a way that it missed my eye. Like, completely. It hit anything but my eye.

MUCHACHA: Well, I did intend to actually blind you, but I'm glad I didn't. I can't have you losing sight of me, after all.

ROBIN: Huh. I didn't know you liked my company.

MUCHACHA: Who said that, you birdbrain? You're still as annoying as the first time we met, and you're getting on my nerves.

Robin, putting his mask down, goes up and looks at her dead in the eyes.

ROBIN: You learned that from Daddy Shao, too?

Muchacha, who has had enough, grabs him by the collar of his feathered cape, and pushes him to a nearby wall, her tone drastically changing.

MUCHACHA: Listen here, you pipsqueak, and you listen well. I don't want to be a rutheless mass-murderer like he was. I want to be a good person, and a good general. But if you don't stop getting on my nerves, I'll kill you, and I'll hang your corpse from a tree. Understood?

Robin, now incredibly terrified, tries to simmer down the tension.

ROBIN: L-Listen, dude, you don't gotta be like this! I'm sorry for pushing your buttons and crap, let's just sit down, and calm the fuck dow-

Muchacha, who has sighed deeply, releases her grip and takes a step back. Robin falls on the floor, hyperventilating. Suddenly, lighting flashes across the sky, and a clap of thunder shortly follows. Amara looks up and notices the change in weather, and turns back to Robin, extending her hand.

MUCHACHA: Let's set camp, we'll be continuing tomorrow.

Robin, getting back up on his own and jumping on his steed and nods. He then gets an idea.

ROBIN: I might have an idea.

Amara, riding alongside him.

MUCHACHA: Is it clever?

ROBIN: Remember that old cave we passed earlier?

MUCHACHA: Yeah? what of it?

ROBIN: Well, there's no better place to spend the night than in a nice and dry cave.

MUCHACHA: You do realize caves usually have beasts, right?

ROBIN: Do you have any better idea?

Amara, thinking for a second, realizes that there's no other shelter for miles, and gives in.

MUCHACHA: Fine. Lead the way, Red Robin.

They ride towards the cave and see its quite dark.

MUCHACHA: You don't happen to have a torch on you, would you?

ROBIN: Better.

the caped crusader then snaps his fingers a couple of times, lighting up a decent sized green flame.

MUCHACHA: How did you learn that?

ROBIN: I'll get into it later. Now, follow my lead.

he says, guiding his horse inside.

Amara, who is amazed, shakes her head and follows.

MUCHACHA: Right, yeah, I guess we have no choice.

The general and the masked man venture deeper into the cavern, with the masked man leading the way, and the general following closely behind. The deeper they go, the more they realize this isn't a cave, its an abandoned mine, one from the days of the rule of Shao Kahn. 

ROBIN: I say we wandered long enough. Lets stop here.

Muchacha, dismounting her horse, looks around.

MUCHACHA: This does look like a good place to stop.

ROBIN: Cool. I'll get the fire started, you take care of the horses.

Robin, while looking around for things to burn, lights up some conveniently placed torch that starts a chain reaction and illuminates the entire mine that spreads on through miles.

ROBIN: Wow, this place is big. What do you think were they mining here?

MUCHACHA: Most likely gold. My father used mines similar to these to amass wealth. Though these ones have been abandoned for some time, and the gold has most likely been depleted.

ROBIN: Hmm... 

Nico, casually approaches to some inanimate skeletons

ROBIN: Excuse me, can one of you dead, decayed bodies point us in the direction of the nearest bonfire? Or, you know, any sort of resting area at all. We're getting pretty tired and bored. So, do you guys have anything cool here or-?

The masked man gets interrupted when a loud howl was heard from the depths of the mines.

ROBIN: Something tells me we aren’t alone.

[batstorm93672]

Do I Know You?

~First (Here)~ Next>>>

Damian sat and sighed as he was tied to a chair. Heaven forbid he decides to go to the Cave and only be able to take off his mask before being bombarded by his family.

"Father, what is the meaning of this?"

Batman looked at Damian and furrowed his brow "Why do you keep calling me that, how did you get in here and why are you dressed like Robin?" "I'm your son, I am Robin" "Don't lie!"

"Alright B how about we lay off the kid? Not gonna get anywhere shouting"

Nightwing walked in and handed Damian a cup of water. "Here, don't mind him. We just want to know what's going on"

"Richard you're a part of this trivial thing too? Also did you put anything in the cup?" Nightwing paused and kneeled down "Okay. We just want some answers, number one. How do you know who I am?"

"Tt. Fine I'll play. I'm Damian Wayne-" Damian jerked his head to Batman "-your son and I'm-" He looked back at Nightwing "-your brother. Alongside with Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas and not to mention the million of others father brought in as he is a magnet for taking in children"

Nightwing nodded and took off his mask "Are you a speedster from the future?" "What? Ew, no. I'm Robin" "Listen, you might be getting something confused. There are no more Robins, the last one was Tim. So where did you get the costume?" "Okay hasn't this gone on long enough? Where is Titus or Alfred the cat? Do you need them to help recognize me or something"

Dick raised a brow "I have no idea who those are"

"Tt. This is tiring"

Damian stood up, untied hands and ankles, he rubbed his wrists. "I untied myself about a minute after you tied me, I know your tricks father, you've taught everyone how to escape knots like yours. Try to get a better tactic. As for you Richard, hasn't this gone on long enough?"

Bruce took off his cowl and studied Damian carefully "He may be telling some truth. It's hard to tell, who is your parent?" "Other than you? Talia Al Ghul is my mother"

The two adults looked at each other with wide eyes. "She doesn't have a child. She told me she had a miscarriage" "Do I look like a miscarriage?"

"Dick. Call for Tim and Cass, they may be able to figure out if he's lying. In the meantime I'll look into this kid"

Damian groaned and sat back down. "Can Pennyworth at least come down? I'd enjoy his company"

"N-" "Yeah I'll get him"

Bruce narrowed his eyes making eye contact with Dick, the two had their private conversation internally and while Damian could decipher the gist of it. He didn't want to right now. This is dragging on long enough.

Bruce sighed for like the fifth time "Fine, let him come. He stays here and under surveillance. Understood?" "Hear you clear"

Bruce left and Damian eyed Dick, wouldn't they have stopped by now?

"Richard... are you still joking with me? Hasn't this gone on long enough?"

Dick looked guilty and sad "I'm sorry, but we really don't know you"

Damian looked down, recounting what he just went through moments before showing.

Someone approached him, a lady with a crystal ball typical isn't it.

"Young boy, won't you indulge this old lady?"

"I'm sorry, I can't-"

"Oh please? This is all I ask of you"

Robin nodded and came over, she was an elder and he respects them. Not to mention she would probably insist and Damian would rather not have to do that.

"Come child" Her wrinkled yet soft hands went over his gloves and she closed her eyes, she was wearing a shawl and attire of stars and eyes decorated on the cloth. "I see... you are of a great destiny. Yet though this is apparent, you are deeply troubled with choices. Leading to terrible consequences. Not to mention the loneliness you are faced with, a great destiny yet an even greater shadow. Tell me, the family you surround yourself with, do they truly see you? You have so many doubts and fears, that you will be alone and forgotten by them"

"...That sounds correct, my fears tend to obscure my view of the path ahead. I feel like one day, they will forget me. And that I'll be alone. Sometimes I wish I was forgotten so I could avoid the pain and move on with my choice without feelings" He... didn't mean to say that much, what is happening?

"Then it will be"

"Wha-"

A flash of light, recovering his vision to see no one. The lady was gone.

...Curious, it may be time I go back before they worry.

Damian kept his gaze away from Dick who was talking on the phone.

They... forgot me. They don't know me. It's like I never existed...

[apollo-likes-writing]

Security Measure

Characters: Red Hood/Jason Todd, Red Robin/Tim Drake, Batman/Bruce Wayne, Nightwing/Dick Grayson (mentioned).

Summary: Why is there a T-Rex in the batcave?

Word count: 1,048

Tags: Comedy, swearing, Bruce being a little shit, Dick not telling people anything, sibling bickering, father-son bickering.

Authors Note: I'm going off the older story of the T-Rex if anyone get's confused. Enjoy!

Jason's motorbike screeches to a halt when he arrives back in the Batcave. Tonight was uneventful, fortunately. No mass-Arkham breakouts to give him or his family a headache.

He puts his motorbike on its stand with his foot and clambers off it. He trudges towards the BatComputer in the centre of the cave and takes his helmet off in the process, and Jason ruffles his hair a little to rid it of its helmet-hair. As he walks, he looks up at the expanse of the cave.

A mass of green catches his eye and he looks up. The resident dinosaur (No, not Bruce) stands proudly in its area of the batcave. Its head points downwards towards him with its jaws agape, and Jason is sure that if he was an intruder, he'd be turning tail and sprinting away at the mere sight of it.

A silky hum of an engine alerts Jason of Red Robin's and Batman's arrival. The Batmobile comes to a steady stop nearby his motorcycle before its engine cuts out and Bruce exits, closely followed by Tim.

"I need your patrol reports within the hour, please." Bruce states, pulling off his cowl and sitting down at the Batcomputer.

"We got it, Bruce." Tim replies, taking off his own mask and depositing it on the table next to him.

Bruce, at the lack of response from his older son, turns in his spinny chair to Jason, who is still looking up at the T-Rex. "Jason? What's wrong?"

He doesn't look away, instead responding with: "Why the fuck is there a giant T-Rex in the batcave?"

At that, Tim and Bruce look up simultaneously.

"Actually, yeah," Tim adds, "I want to know too."

Bruce looks away from the T-Rex and looks at his sons, "You both asked that when you first became Robin respectively. Its a trophy, remember?"

"Yeah, but like- why a T-Rex?" Jason asks, finally looking down from his apparent infatuation with the dinosaur.

"What do you mean?" Bruce responds.

Tim pipes up. "Of all the trophies you have: TwoFace's giant coin, that creepy Joker card--"

"Which I still fucking hate by the way," Jason interrupts.

"Yes, Jason. We know," he replies before continuing with a dismissive wave. "--Why a T-Rex?"

"Why not?"

Both Jason and Tim respond at the same time, "Excuse me?"

"Why not?" he repeats, "Why not have a T-Rex in the batcave? We're rich, Jason."

"Well yes, I'm aware of that. But why not take an egg? Or maybe a smaller dinosaur? A Pterodactyl would've been cool."

"Yeah, or a Diplodocus!" Tim adds excitedly. Jason glances at Tim, scoffing.

"That's not a smaller dinosaur-."

"I don't see your point."

"Anyway-" Jason continues, harshly nudging his brother with his elbow, "I would've preferred a Pterodactyl. The T-Rex just takes up space at this point."

Bruce quirks a brow. "Do you even know the story behind it?" he asks.

"No?" Jason replies, phrased more like a question rather than a statement.

"I thought Dick told you?"

"Why would Dick tell us?"

"Because he was there, Jason."

"HE WAS?" Tim exclaims.

"Yes?" Bruce answers, as if it was obvious. "Dick and I got invited to a charity event as Batman and Robin at Dinosaur Island."

"And?"

"We got ambushed and animatronic dinosaurs attacked the two of us."

"Oh, of course. It couldn't be anything normal, huh?" Tim quips, putting his hands on his hips.

"Let me finish, Tim."

Tim sighs and puts his hands above his head in mock surrender.

"The dinosaurs were being controlled by a criminal named Stephen Chase. We apprehended him and took his animatronic T-Rex as a prize."

"So it's an animatronic?" Jason asks, looking back up at the dinosaur above him.

"Yes," Bruce deadpans, "Were you not listening?"

Jason shoots a look at Bruce and is about to reply with an insult but Tim speaks up before he can do so.

"Why the T-Rex, though? There are lot's of much cooler dinosaurs you could have chosen."

"Yeah," Jason adds, his voice laced with sarcasm, "Like a Diplodocus, for example." Tim gives Jason a dirty look, to which he responds with an exaggerated shrug.

Bruce smirks, "Can a Diplodocus do this?"

Bruce clicks a button on his utility belt and a grating, bellowing roar ricochets off the walls of the batcave and rattles the skulls of the two boys. They look up to see the T-Rex standing at full height, its head now pointed forward instead of down. Jason and Tim both take a step back out of reflex.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Jason exclaims, resting a hand on his holster.

"I'll take that as a no." Bruce chuckles, "Please don't shoot my dinosaur, Jason. I didn't think I'd have to say that today."

"Why the fuck do you still have it online?" Tim asks incredulously, a look of shock painted on his features.

"I reprogrammed it so it can be used as a security measure if the Batcave is attacked." Bruce replies calmly - as if there isn't a giant dinosaur in the middle of the batcave.

"A security measure? What the fuck does that mean?"

Bruce clicks the same button on his utility belt again and the dinosaur looks down at Jason. It opens its mouth again and a second deafening roar splits Jason's head. So much for not having a headache, eh?

"Please don't use such crude language in my cave, Jason." Bruce snickers.

"Now listen here-," Jason starts, pointing a gloved fingered at Bruce.

"You heard the man," Tim quips, a smirk pulling at his lips despite himself.

"I also heard the massive fucking robotic dinosaur, too," Jason retorts, smacking the side of his head to establish his point, "Who in their right mind would attack the Batcave anyway? "

"Hush."

"Not surprising."

"And the Court of Owls."

"The Court of Owls?"

"They didn't succeed."

"Clearly," Tim scoffs, "Otherwise, your identity would be thrown out the fucking window."

The T-Rex roars once again and Tim steps back for the second time, the smirk he was carrying prior now wiped from his face.

"Language, Tim." Bruce warns, a laugh tickling his throat.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Nope. I'm done with this. This is some weird fever dream. I'm going to bed and when I wake up in the morning none of this will have happened." Jason turns around and heads to the elevator of the batcave.

"I still need your patrol report, Jason." Bruce calls.

Jason turns around on his way and points two middle fingers up at Bruce before slamming the button in the elevator. The door closes on an irritated look--

--Is that a smile on his face?

Masterlist

[hipstergecko]

CONSIDER

Batman doesn't want to adopt anyone. Dick is only his ward at this point. And all he really wants is to put Ellie in the system so that he can find her a family that is more "responsible".

Danny is the one who is ready to adopt out of spite.

I can see Ellie getting into trouble with some thugs and Robin showing up to save her. They both get knocked around a bit, but get out safely. Batman finds the pair in another alley and berates them harshly. Ellie is mad and close to tears, so she calls for her mom.

Danny enters to see Batman attempting to make off with his child. NO SIR. He removes Ellie from the Batman and verbally tears into him. Batman is mostly silent against the onslaught until Danny mentions Robin. Batman angrily defends himself. Robin kinda shrinks away from Batman at one point, because when things get heated, Bruce can get scary. It gets worse when Batman claims that Robin is his ward. They aren't related by blood. He is his responsibility.

Danny get piiiissssed. Claims he could do a better job as a parent to a child vigilante than Batman could ever! (Valid; he has experience) Children should be children! There are better outlets for aggression than punching goons in life threatening situations!

Cue Batman giving as good as he got. Children should not be wandering the streets of Gotham City unattended! She could've been killed! You are a negligent parent!

Cue Ellie and Dick ending up beside each other. While the adults shout, they defend their parent to each other. Danny fought for me. Bruce was there for me. They couldn't take me back even if they wanted to. I have no other place to go. I want to see what the world has to offer. I want vengeance for my parents. I want to be free. I want a family.

Ellie decides she likes him. Decides to befriend him. Dick protests because vigilantes don't have friends. It's a risk. A liability. It can't happen or else the people they love will die.

Ellie grins, sharp and laughing in the dim light of the alley.

"They can't kill ya if you're already dead!"

And then they hear a loud "FINE!". They look over to see Danny stomp over to Robin. He kneels down to look him in the eye. His eyes are bright blue, flashing with green.

"Is that man right there," he points viciously to Batman, "your father?"

"Well..."

"Robin is my WARD and APPRENTICE." Batman grinds out through gritted teeth.

Danny ignores the Batman. He stares Dick dead in the eyes and says, "Do you, Robin or whatever your real name is, consider that man right there, your father?"

Dick feels the weight of the question. He swallows and his hands form fists as his memory supplies flashes of his father's bright smile. "He's... no. Batman is not my father."

Danny nods firmly. "Well then. By the will of ancients, I hereby lay claim to you. Be it by life or by death, you are welcomed into my family."

There is a pulse. A wave of force that bursts out from the hand on his shoulder, flowing through him and tousling his hair from the force of it. Dick stares wide eyed from behind his domino mask.

What was that?!

Danny's entire countenance changes. He is no less serious, but his eyes go soft. His mouth forms a delighted smile. Dick notices that he has freckles that seem to shine in the light of the street light.

Ellie is standing there, slack jawed and starry eyed.

"Did... did you just adopt Robin?!

"Yep. You're my kid now."

Suddenly Batman is there, ripping the bright eyed man away from Robin. "That's not something you get to decide!"

Danny glares at the Batman. "I made a choice just now. I'm taking him on as my son since you obviously don't have the balls to do it yourself!" He looks to Robin cheerily. "If you need help or a place to stay, look me up. You're my son now kiddo. My home is your home."

"No I'm not!" Robin splutters. "I'm not your son! I have a home with br-batman! I didn't ask for this!!"

"You didn't need to!" Danny waves his words away cheerfully. "It's something you needed."

Ellie nods, pulling something out of her bag. "He definitely needed it." Quick as a flash she grabs Robins hand and pulls out his arm. Her hold is like iron as she scribbles down an address across his skin. "Mom's pretty great. We've even got an apartment and everything! It's got a fridge and beds... you should come by sometime!" She lets go and trots back to Danny.

Batman positions himself him front of Robin, shielding him with his cape. "This means nothing. You are not his parent and you will never be."

Danny scoffs. "Shows what you know." He turns to Ellie. "Let's go home." They both walk past the Batman and towards the road.

A few feet from the end of the alley, Danny stops. He turns and addresses the vigilante pair. "I've adopted you Robin, but this is a two way street. You don't have to come to my home or be a part of my family, but there will always be a place for you." He glares at Batman, toxic green gaze trying to a burn a hole straight through his cowl. "I will not stoop to kidnapping, but if you ever hurt my kid or, ancients forbid, come after my daughter again, I will haunt you till the end of time."

Then they turn a corner and are gone.

Batman turns and pulls Dick's arm out, studying the address. Park row. The darker side of the city.

Dick waits for his verdict.

Bruce growls low in his throat. "Batcave. Now."

Of course.

Bruce tries to adopt Ellie, who is immediately against it. She keeps throwing him off her trail and he keeps tracking her down. She's honestly concerned, and normally she would handle her problems by herself- but this is Batman.

So when Bruce gets a little too close and Ellie is just so tired... she calls for Danny.

"Mom!"

Cue college student, perpetually tired and overworked Danny "High King Phantom" Fenton appearing from the very shadows Batman normally does himself, seeing the situation and going off at this "clearly older man" chasing his daughter in the middle of the night.

Cue the most elaborate "stop trying to adopt my kid before I adopt yours" series of battles

[pendragon-writes]

𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈

Batman x Teen!Son!Reader

Requested: Yes

Note: I decided to go with just the two of them doing 'normal' family stuff (Let's be honest tho anyone related or is a part of his family doesn't have normal lol) This turned into more of the whole family than just Batman but I hope you like it anon.

"Hey Bruce do you have the list?" you asked him as you pushed the cart. Today was Alfred's day off and as a result, someone had to go shopping with him since the others would've caused chaos Bruce entrusted you to help him out. "Yep," he responded, pulling his cap more down.

As much as you enjoyed non-vigilante tasks you hated the fact that you had to hide your faces just so that paparazzi wouldn't charge at you in any public spaces or the fact even though you were a teen people felt the right to try and harass you even more than they did with your older siblings.

“Great, what do we have first on the list?” Once he told you the list the both of you continued shopping for stuff, and while everything was going smoothly something just had to ruin it.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Oh my god is that who I think it is?” A civilian said pointing with her daughter at the both of you, this caused you to freeze up for a second before continuing what you were doing. Bruce noticed this but didn’t comment anything since he didn’t want to bring any more attention to the both of you. Before the lady could try to walk up to the both of you Bruce quickly moved you both in another direction resulting in her losing you both.

Once you finished both the shopping and putting the groceries in the car you sat in the shotgun, just as you were about to put some music on your headphones he stopped you. "How about you play some of those songs you like on here?" He asked. "Um, sure. Do you have anything in mind?" "Not at all, just whatever you want" he replied. You hummed in response and started playing I'll never smile again, this seemed to be of his liking because he nodded in approval and continued driving.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"Hey, Bruce?" "Yeah?" "Can we go to batburger?" "Sure, make sure to call the others and see what they want and let Alfred know as well". You grinned at this and texted the group chat.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

[This Chaotic Family]

Me: Hey what do you guys want? Me and B-man are at BatBurger

Get me the Cheesy Bat Combo with a coke! :D :Blue-Bird

In that case, I'll just get my regular :Bucket Head

1 Sweet tea and a Bat Pounder thanks (N/n)! :Computer Legend

I don't mind whatever you get for me will do just fine Master (Y/N)

:Alfred The Wise

Whatever is good as long as it's vegan. :Lil Robin

A coffee and Big bat with fries :Wanna-be Detective

Me: Tim unless you've forgotten you've been banned from coffee for this week...

Fine no coffee just get me a sprite then :Wanna-be Detective

Me: Got it

Dr. Pepper and Bat Burger plz :Cass

Get me a Bat-LT with curly fries :D Oh and Duke wants the same!

:Purple Lady

°。°。°。°。°。°。

As you both finished ordering and dropping off the food you both got ready to go on patrol together, as you put on your mask you turned to Bruce who finished putting on his cowl. He nodded towards the Bat-mobile and you entered the passenger seat.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

You jumped from building to building using your grappling hook to get to the farther ones, Bruce was nearby but was doing his own patrol just like you. You finally landed next to him and waited for Oracle or someone to let one of you know of anything going down. While you'd normally get a bunch of people and places you needed to help it seemed tonight was less busy, and that was true for most of the patrol before you heard Batman himself talking to someone. You turned to him, leaned on the wall, and waited. After a little while, he responded. "On my way. Let's go"

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"You needed me, Gordon?" Batman asked. Gordon hadn't seen you yet and you wanted to see just how long it'd take. "Ah yes, thank you, Batman. We have a case that neither my detectives nor me myself can solve." He showed him a file that read as classified. "Arnold Wesker? what does he want?" You asked from behind. "AH! Oh, it's you, hey kid" Gordon responded. "And yeah it's him, says he wanted to speak to Batman himself, no idea why but he won't tell us". You sighed at this, as nice of a guy as he was his puppet was extremely annoying to deal with, even if they've been separated again they somehow always manage to get back together.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

While Batman was talking with Wesker you waited outside of the room and started tossing a coin left to right, the loud clinking noise caught some of the guards' attention. At first, they didn't say anything but after a while, one of them asked to try it and you tossed them it. Most of the guards failed but it seemed to brighten up their day slightly getting to try something new out. When the Bat himself returned he saw one of the guards attempt to pass the coin to the other side and fail miserably. When the guard noticed they slowly went to pick it up and apologized quietly.

Once that whole ordeal was done and the patrol was over you both got back to the manor and started getting ready for movie night. A common tradition in the manor and a welcomed one after Alfred suggested it as a way for all of you to spend quality time.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"So what are we watching?" Damian asked as he petted Alfred, the cat. "I don't know isn't it Dicks turn to pick?" You responded, sitting next to Cass and passing her the popcorn, to which she smiled in gratitude. "Today, my children we are watching Master Chief!" Dick answered in a mock British accent. "Dude your accent sucks!" Jason laughed. Laughter and giggles filled the room with even Bruce himself laughing a bit at the accent.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

After a few episodes all of them were fast asleep, some on top of the others and others laying on their back, you laying your head on Bruce's shoulder. Alfred walked into the sight and smiled. He saw all of you as one of his own and seeing all of you relaxed and getting some rest brought him some joy. He covered each of you in blankets and took a picture of you all together.

[astronomoney]

Pairing: Tim Drake x nb!reader (it’s not super romance heavy but I might do a part two)

Prompts: n/a this is purely self indulgent

Summary: sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes life tells you your best friend and the guy you hate are the same person, your not sure what’s worse

Warnings: n/a

A/n: is this canon compliant? no. does it make much sense? not really. do I like and did I have fun writing it? absolutely. read at your own risk Masterlist also this should be totally nb but if you see anything that’s gender solid please let me know so I can fix it

Word count: 2k it got to long but there’s plenty of material for a second part (wink wink nudge nudge)

Secrets Spilled

Rich people suck. More specifically, rich teenagers suck. You should know, you go to school with one. Tim Drake, the pride and joy of Gotham Academy and the adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Was he actually adopted? You didn’t remember but that didn’t matter. Mr. Wayne has a habit of picking up strays almost as bad as Batman and Tim Drake was lucky enough to end up under his umbrella of wealth.

You had 3 classes with Tim Drake. He was smart and most of the teachers liked him well enough, in fact most of the school liked him. You however hated him. Sure he was cute and he seemed nice enough and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something about him was just off. Like he had some big secret or something.

No one at school seemed to agree with you on that. They all thought he was a perfect angel so you stopped trying to convince them of your anti-drake agenda a long time ago. Thankfully you had one person in your life who always listened to your rants.

“He sounds like a douchebag,” Red Robin said, sitting cross legged on your bed with an ice pack against his lip. Through some minor computer shenanigans, aka illegal hacking (nothing to bad), you had met and become close friends with none other than Red Robin.

It was a mutually beneficial friendship. For him it was an apartment almost exactly halfway between safe houses so on nights like tonight when he was a little bloody and bruised he’d stop by and you’d help patch him up. For you it was a captivated audience for your late night rants.

“Oh he totally is! Thank you for that, no one ever agrees with me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how many times you’d heard people gush about the billionaire brat. You sat down across from him and opened the first aid kit you’d just dug out from under your bed.

You were too busy rifling through the various bandages and ointments to notice your vigilante friend desperately trying to hide his smirk. “Yeah no problem,”

“He’s way smart too, which is super annoying.” You found the healing gel you were looking for. “I swear he’s hiding something, he must be like an alien or a robot or-” You looked up to see a laugh-suppressing-grin on the heros face, “Don’t laugh, I'm serious! This guy is a pain and just because he’s hot people let it slide!”

Red's face went completely serious and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks tint pink underneath his domino mask but then again his left side had a sizable cut on it so you really couldn’t tell. “You- you think he’s hot?”

“That is so not the point I'm trying to make!” You rolled your eyes and dabbed a bit of gel on the cut. “But yeah, his looks are like, his only redeeming quality.” Once you had laid a thin layer against the cut you used some butterfly bandages to hold it closed. It was exactly pretty but it would heal well, and the gel would make it nothing but a small scar in a week or so. “You know, you kinda look like him. Is that what you're hiding?” You used this opportunity to tap the bottom edge of the mask, resisting the urge to just take it off right then. “Rugged good looks and a billionaire smile.”

“Oh ha ha,” He retorted sarcastically, lightly moving your hand away from the fabric. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t dying to know his identity. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s just that he’d heard you complain about his alter ego enough times to worry about your reaction, plus the whole ‘your-life-would-be-in-constant-danger-if-you-knew’ thing. Lately he’d found himself going out of his way to end up knocking on your window and he didn’t want what you had to change.

“You're no fun.” You huffed, hoping off the bed stashing the first-aid kit once again. You heard a small buzz and knew that Red had gotten an alert.

He stood up, and listen for a second. You could only guess he was getting instructions via earpiece. “Got it, I’m on my way.” He called over coms before turning back to you with an apologetic look.

You spoke before he could get an apology out. “Let me guess, some goon’s breaking open an ATM and everyone else is busy?”

“Pretty much yeah,” He ducked under your windowsill onto your fire escape. “Thanks for the help. I don’t know where I'd be without you.”

“Probably at that robbery already,” You gently shoved him the rest of the way through the window and bid him farewell. You watched him grapple off into the dim moonlight before getting back into your bed. Over the past few weeks you’d started staying up later just in case a certain someone happened by, this of course made that full 8 hours a little harder to come by. You didn’t really care though, a little less sleep for a little more time with him seemed like a fair trade.

The next morning finally came and you weren’t exactly pleased to hear the familiar beeping of your alarm clock. Still you forced yourself out of bed, pulled your uniform on and got your stuff together before heading out the door to another day at Gotham Academy.

You didn’t have any classes with Tim on Friday’s but you usually saw him passing you in the hall or at lunch. Today was different. One might even say he was avoiding you, but why. You saw a glimpse of him quickly heading away from you before second period, and at lunch you got a great view of the back of his head for about 30 seconds before he ducked out to go who knows where. Sure, you weren’t exactly friends but today it seemed he’d gone completely out of his way to make sure you didn’t see him. And it was pretty successful, at least until you literally collided with him.

School had let out and you had almost left the building before you remembered you’d left something behind, on your way back to your locker you turned a corner without caution and slammed into him at full force. It was a classic early 2000s movie scene, papers and books flying and strewn across the floor, both parties crouching down to collect up their scattered items and inevitably accidentally grabbing the wrong paper or two.

“Ah sorry, i’m so sorry I didn’t see-” That’s when you actually saw who it was you’d bumped into. “Tim?” You handed him the printed out english paper that definitely wasn’t yours.

“Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He apologized as you both stood up and placed your papers in your respective books bags. Something about him was even more off then usual. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, in fact he kept his gaze firmly to his left. Maybe he’d somehow heard you complain about him and now he wanted nothing to do with you. Maybe you’d messed it all up.

You were about to awkwardly say bye and shuffle off when a locker a little ways away from you slammed shut, startling you both and causing Tim to finally look to his right.

“Whoa what happened to your face?” You asked leaning in slightly to see the hefty gash that had been carefully held together with butterfly bandages. “That looks just like,” It clicked. “hOLY-”

“SHHH!” Tim acted fast, he clapped a hand over your mouth, effectively putting your mind shattering realization on silent and rushed the both of you into a thankfully unlocked maintenance closet nearby.

Suddenly a bajillion pieces were falling into place in your mind. Tim cursed. “God, if you know now what I think you know you’re gonna have a lot of questions. So I'm gonna move my hand but you have to be quiet about it. Ok?” He spoke softly and full of concern. After all, he may have just caused a massive overload in your brain. Your kind of enemy and your closest confidant were the same damn person, who knows what that could do to someone’s psyche.

You nodded profusely, still unable to even conjure a sound. Slowly Tim lifted his hand away from your mouth and watched you closely. You didn’t say anything for a beat, you just stared back at him and then, “What the actual fuck! You’re him and he’s- which means- I mean all this time- and… what?!?”

“Umm yeah?” In all honesty this was going better than Tim had imagined it would. Whenever he’d envisioned you finding out it usually started with you cursing him out and ended with you never talking to him again, but now here he was. You hadn’t cursed him out exactly and you were kind of still talking to him so overall, better than expected. “I wanted to tell you ages ago I swear. I just know how you feel about… well me,” He gestured down to his civilian attire. “and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

“All this time,” You were still definitely in shock. “All this time you were him and he was you! And you never told me! I talked about you to you! I called you hot!”

“Oh yeah, thanks by the way.” A shit eating grin had made its way onto his face and you were not pleased.

“Oh fuck off!” You sunk down to sit on a little step stool that happened to be in the closet. “I can’t believe I was so dumb. I mean how did I not see it sooner!”

Tim crouched down in front of you. “To be fair, we put a lot of effort into keeping our secrets.”

“We? Wait a second! If you’re Red Robin, that makes Batman-”

“Yup.”

“And Nightwing-”

“Oh yeah.”

“So Robin is-”

“A total pain in the ass. But yeah, it’s Damian.”

“Holy shit!”

Tim finally let himself laugh a bit at your reaction. You were smart and he knew that, there had been a few times over the past few weeks when he thought you might put it all together and he’d gone out of his way to cover it up. Including (but not limited to) a leaked story to the tabloids about a Tim-Drake-kidnapping-attempt that was thwarted by the one and only Red Robin.

While the tabloids weren’t the most believable sources it had planted a seed in your brain that Red Robin and Tim Drake were in the same place at the same time. Of course thanks to that cut on his cheek he wouldn’t need to lie to you anymore.

“Don’t laugh! I can’t believe I didn’t see this months ago. I mean your stupid mask doesn't even cover that much!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point.

Tim lightly grabbed your arms and brought them back down. “Ok ok, i’m serious but you seriously need to calm down.” He still had a massive grin on his face.

“I am calm!” You defended. “I mean considering. Wait, how did this start? Did you have to train long? When did you find out who Batman was? Is he really a Vampire?” You rattled off questions a mile a minute, finally the shock and slight annoyance had given way to pure curiosity.

Tim looked around the small maintenance room, contemplating a really bad idea. “I can’t explain anything else here, but if you want I can take you to the Batcave? I mean you’ve already guessed most of the secrets and even if I don't tell you the rest you’ll probably figure it out anyway.”

a/n: I broke 2k and couldn’t figure out a satisfying ending so I just called it here but if y’all show this one some love i’ll do a part too (guest appearances and everything)

taglist: @starship-argo @reveriecore @luvcoy @instabull @littlered-fangirl click here to be added :)

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.